| 30/05/03 - Diary by Matthew
Norman
Matthew Norman
The Guardian
Bomber Short may accuse him of not listening, but in
the case of John "Gaffer" Rollinson Mr Tony
Blair was all ears. Admittedly, the Gaffer's letter
("you stood with America and stayed with America...")
approved strongly of the Iraq war.
Even so, it showed a desire to engage when Mr T then
rang the Rollinson home in Essex for a follow-up chat.
"Is that John Rollinson?" he began. "I
don't know, mate," replied the Gaffer, "you
rang me." From this alone, keen students of underworld
argot may glimpse the fact (one entirely missed by the
Sun, which mentioned the incident in passing) that Mr
Rollinson has some form.
The erstwhile National Front recruit, who lives with
the former girlfriend of Tony Tucker, a drugs baron
murdered in Essex eight years ago, has done porridge
for brutal crimes of violence. "I told him to read
my book," he tells the Thurrock Gazette, "and
once he reads that he won't ring again."
Even so, the Gaffer is a huge Mr T fan. "I think
he will win the next election," he predicts. "He
has the support of the underworld."
· We wish to make it clear that when the Gaffer
refers to the underworld being foursquare behind Mr
T, there is no suggestion that Boris the Jackal Johnson,
the Spectator editor and Tory member for Henley, intends
to cross the floor of the house.
· When Marina rings No 10 about the matter, she
wonders if there are plans for the prime minister to
call Mad Frankie Fraser to discuss monetary union. Only,
if it helps, we can supply a home number. "Erm..."
says a male press officer, before a long pause sets
in. Eventually he finds the power of speech. "Possibly,"
he manages. Really? "It could happen." So
nothing ruled out at this stage. "No. Goodbye."
· If anyone knows the name of the Gaffer's book,
by the way, or better still has a copy, please get in
touch. Apart from its potential as a Book of the Month,
there may well be something we can extract - possibly
about something he once extracted - for use in Labour
election literature.
· We don't even know who published the Gaffer's
tome, but it probably was not Faber & Faber. Their
catalogue of forthcoming books has arrived, and although
it looks light on villainous memoirs, it does trumpet
Martin Gottfried's biography of Arthur Miller. "Arthur's
life," begins the blurb, "spans more than
four decades..." Surely not? But he only married
Marilyn Monroe in 1956.
· Fears about the New York Times's reputation
for accuracy, following its reporter Jayson Blair's
exposure as a serial liar, have been firmly banished.
The newspaper has found a refreshing way to guarantee
truthfulness, according to a rival's account of an internal
meeting. "'I'm here to listen to your anger, wherever
it's directed. I know that our institution has been
damaged, and I accept my responsibility for that, and
I intend to fix it,' the editor Howell Raines told staffers,"
reports USA Today. "A moose head - a longtime prop
intended to assure forthright and honest discussion
at the paper - was on stage with the executives."
Phew. So much for a crisis over credibility.
· Jonathan Powell Month, which was flushed away
on a tide of indolence last time around, is hereby resurrected.
The obscurity of Mr Tony's "chief of staff"
(oh, the frisson of excitement these White House terms
provide) has endured too long, so we will be building
a profile in the weeks ahead. Tomorrow, we reprise one
of the three proper stories to appear here in the last
eight years - it concerns a Groucho Club cloakroom (although
strangely the only white powder involved would have
been formula milk) - but the rest is up to you. All
anecdotes, opinions and libels welcomed and rewarded.
· diary@guardian.co.uk
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